Strepitus Suburbanum
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right.
Here I am, bitching about my neighbors. I’m in my curmudgeon arc. I bet most can tune out the strepitus suburbanum, but it’s driving me fucking mad.
Every month, I Apple Pay an orthodontist I’ve never met 3,000 of my questionably earned dollars for the privilege of living in his future retirement home. I thought, for the price, it would be a nice, quiet retreat from the city. Shame on me for thinking.
On one side, a guy obsessed with bringing the indoors outside. Lounge furniture, giant TV, sound system, and a diabolical collection of wind chimes.
On the other, Halloween decorations that howl, cackle, and repeat spooky dialogue whenever their cheap motion sensors are triggered.
Then there are the aftermarket exhausts favored by micro-dicked men, the incessant lawnmowers, and the neglected backyard dogs.
I desperately want a moment of silence.